


Shoulder to Cry On

by StoriwrYNos



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear of Abandonment, Feelings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Inspired by Class, M/M, Malex, Michael Guerin Needs a Hug, OTP Feels, Panic Attacks, Protective Alex Manes, Self-Indulgent, Short, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 17:01:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18319526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoriwrYNos/pseuds/StoriwrYNos
Summary: Michael Guerin is normally everyone's rock, everyone's shoulder to cry on. So what happens when it all gets too much for Michael?





	Shoulder to Cry On

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm not going to lie, I am ill right now and upset that RNM isn't on this week because I already miss my favourite character ever, Michael Guerin so this is complete self-indulgence. 
> 
> Michael needs a hug and I'm sorry, my shipper heart was not going to let anyone else comfort him in this situation. Also, this is inspired by a scene in Class where Charlie doesn't know what a panic attack is and Matteusz guides him through it. 
> 
> TW - Michael has a panic attack.

Michael burst into the caravan with the tightness in his chest increasing with every breath he took. Aliens weren’t supposed to get sick. So why the hell did he feel like he was dying? 

He looked around wildly trying to think of something, anything that might help but he had no idea. When you don’t know what’s attacking you, how are you supposed to fend it off? 

Suddenly, his vision started failing him and Michael was sure that this was the end. He had caught some kind of alien disease or someone had poisoned him and they were either waiting outside to kidnap him when he passed out, or they were just waiting for him to die. 

No. He didn’t want to die. He had too much still to live for. He wanted to be around for Isabelle while she tried to figure out everything that had been going on with her. He wanted to explore his relationship with Max that they had just started to rekindle. He wanted to see if he and Liz could be friends because although he would never tell her, he actually kind of liked her. He wanted to work things out with Maria because they had been onto a good thing there before he had messed it up by thinking with things other than his brain. And then there was Alex. Always Alex. He didn’t want to die because Alex wanted some kind of relationship with him. Michael didn’t care if it was friendship, love, sex or a nod as they passed each other in the Wild Pony, he was and always had been willing to take anything Alex offered him. 

In the middle of his swirling thoughts, Michael blinked and the blurriness in his vision cleared somewhat. Then, the feel of something hot trailing down his cheek made him fall back against the kitchen cabinets. It was the next stage of the poison. He was sure of it. His eyes were bleeding. 

With shaking hands, he lifted his fingers to his face. Instead of coming away stained red, they had transparent drops on their tips. He was crying, Michael realised as he took his now wet hand and pushed it against his throbbing chest. His heart felt like it was trying to make it’s escape. Everyone else had left so why would his heart not jump ship on him too? 

Without warning, a racking sob erupted through Michael; starting in his stomach and travelling all the way through his chest and out of his mouth. It filled the caravan in a strangled scream. Despite the pain, there was some catharsis attached to the sound. Michael tried it again and found that although it didn’t relieve the pressure in his chest, it made him feel a little more in control of the situation he had currently found himself in. 

So, he screamed. And then he screamed again. And then he just kept on screaming. 

 

As soon as Alex pulled up, he knew something was wrong. It wasn’t difficult to know when the caravan was literally shaking in front of him. He jumped out of the car and jogged over as quickly as he could on his still stiff leg. 

As he got closer, he heard strangled yells coming from the caravan and despite the inhuman quality of the sound, he knew they were Michael. What was happening to him? Was he being tortured? Killed? Thoughts ran through Alex’s brain ten to the dozen as he threw himself at the caravan door without hesitation. 

When he flung the door open, the first thing he saw was Michael, huddled into the corner of his small kitchen area, clutching his stomach with both hands and screaming loud enough it was like he was trying to communicate with the family he was so desperate to find. The next thing Alex realised was that there was no one else in the caravan.  
With the knowledge that there was no attacker here that he needed to protect Michael from, Alex threw himself to the ground in front of the man he cared about so much. 

“Guerin.” He whispered, lifting his arms as if to touch Michael, but not wanting to make unwanted contact. 

At the sound, Michael stopped screaming. Slowly, he peeled his eyes open and looked at Alex. Instantly, Alex’s heart broke. Michael’s eyes were full of tears that had coated his cheeks and dripped down onto his shirt. His body was heaving as he tried and failed to take deep breaths through his mouth. Everything clicked into place for Alex. There didn’t need to be anyone else in the caravan, Michael’s Guerin’s biggest enemy was making eye contact with Alex. 

“I think I’m dying.” Michael managed to croak. Alex shook his head quickly. 

“You’re not, I promise.” He whispered, unable to prevent his hands from moving a little closer to Michael’s skin so that they were hovering just inches away. 

“How…do you…know?” Michael managed to ask through panting breaths. Even as he prepared to answer, Alex started taking deep, even breaths, encouraging Michael to do the same. 

“Because I’ve seen and felt panic attacks a million times before, Guerin. Just breathe with me, ok?” Alex kept taking deep breaths in and out. In and out.

Initially, Michael’s breathing failed to match Alex’s even pace, but slowly, as they worked through the breathing together, he seemed to calm down. 

“Just keep breathing.” Alex whispered reassuringly. Michael met his gaze and tilted his head forward a little so that his chin was resting in Alex’s outstretched hand. 

Alex’s skin fizzed at the contact and given this permission he had so desperately waited for, he rested his other hand gently against Michael’s jaw and slipped his fingers into Guerin’s curly hair. 

 

Michael closed his eyes as he felt Alex’s skin on his. Whatever shit show had been happening in his life, however lost he felt, Alex’s touch was all it took to bring him home. 

“How are you feeling?” He heard Alex whisper, and when he opened his eyes he found two worried pupils and a wrinkled brow looking down at him. 

“Like crap.” He answered honestly, and realised it was the first time he had admitted it to himself in a while too. 

Being the shoulder to cry on was what got Michael through. It is what had always gotten him through. Even when he was younger, one of the reasons he was so glad to come back to Roswell after being sent away was the familiarity of having something to protect in Is and Max. Now, though, he had no one he needed to comfort. Max had Liz. Issy had Noah. Maria didn’t really have anyone but she didn’t want him. Alex had Kyle. Michael had no one. No one he needed to be a rock for. No one he could put in front of himself so that he forgot how awful his own life was. 

Oh, God. All Michael could think about was his own life. All of those years in foster care. So many fists and feet flying into his body from all angles. So many exorcisms that felt like they would last forever. So many instances of being told by everyone that he didn’t care about anyone but himself when the last thing he wanted on earth was to think of his worthless, undeserving self. 

Why was Alex even here? What had he, Michael Guerin, ever done to deserve Alex Manes? Back in High School or now. But even so, he didn’t want Alex to leave. Not again.  
Thinking of losing Alex made tears spring back to Michael’s eyes and he leaned his head against the cupboard, knowing that there was no stopping them. 

 

In such close proximity, Alex saw the moment the tears overflowed from Michael’s eyes and caught them with his thumb. 

“Hey.” He shifted his body so that instead of squatting in front of Michael, he was sitting beside him with his back pressed up against the cupboard. From there, he pulled Michael gently so that instead of pressing against the kitchen counter, Michael’s forehead was resting on his shoulder.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Alex heard Michael whisper, and it cracked his heart again, forming four pieces where there had formerly been one. At least three and three quarters of those pieces belonged to the broken man beside him. 

“I’m not going to leave.” Alex ran his fingers through Michael’s hair, trying to instil his words with all of the conviction he could. He meant it. 

Whether it was because he sensed the truth behind Alex’s words or because he was convinced Alex was lying, Michael let out another racking sob. 

Alex moved his hand from Michael’s hair in order to wrap his arm around Michael’s body and pull him in as if he could protect him from everything the world had to throw at him. He knew he couldn’t, but all he could do was try. For once, it was time Michael Guerin had a shoulder to cry on.


End file.
